Reviews

A real old superpub

The woman in the grocery store in Redcross village says that Cullen's Pub doesn't open until around eight o'clock. Or sometimes nine o'clock. Or it could even be ten. I'd really have to come back and see. John Cullen has been running it on his own since his brother died and he also has the farm to look after. So there are evenings when he mightn't open at all.

 

Space and time

  • 28 April 2005
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The Hugh Lane Gallery in Dublin has invited five international artists to respond to the gallery's space, in their own time. Billy Leahy reports

The meaning of nowhere

  • 14 April 2005
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Cosmopolitan, multi-cultural, colourful – in a word a 'Europiccola' – Aoife Carrigy is lured to Trieste by the magic of James Joyce

Earth – all you can eat

  • 14 April 2005
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If you consider yourself a Premier League Organic Foodie then you will have already pencilled in next Friday, 22 April into your recycled Green Party diary. You won't of course have used a charcoal pencil with which to mark the world wide "Earth Dinner" promoted by the American Organic Consumers' Association – that would inadvertently contribute to further removal of sections of the rainforest.

Presenting the West

  • 14 April 2005
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Billy Leahy tries to sidestep the clichés as he makes his tentative journey into the West at The Royal Hibernian Academy's latest exhibition

Too late to stop now

At fifty-five, Don Baker has no plans to stop playing Blues. Because it's hip, he tells Eoin Butler

All that glitters

Four centuries of Irish gold and silver craftmanship go on display this month in Cork. Brian O'Connell talks to silversmith Chris Carroll who has worked on everything from gold teeth to a solid gold palate

City limits

Rivalry with Dublin and a carefree attitude are generally associated with Cork bands. But Fred have also managed to release one of the best albums this year says Eoin Butler

That's life in the city

We've moved back into town. Hurray. I've just spent six months in the suburbs while our house was being done up and I now realise I am truly a townie. I missed the dirt and the smog and the noise. I missed my bicycle, Wagamama, expensive lattes, queuing, and the anonymity (because Dublin is so huge). I missed St. Pat's bells, the smell of the hops, feeding the ducks (something I keep meaning to do), brunch in Odessa, coffee in Bewleys (woops). I missed an auld pint in an auld pub. I missed the rudeness, the smackheads and having to chain my car up at night. And I missed the choice.

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